


Five Times the Egos Were Caught Sleeping

by Doctor_Discord



Series: The Ego Manor [40]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Cute, Family Fluff, Fluff, Literal Sleeping Together, Overworking, so cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-25 01:44:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17715701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doctor_Discord/pseuds/Doctor_Discord
Summary: Just as the title says. Five chapters of a variety of egos being caught in their most adorable and vulnerable states. It's pure.





	1. The Jims

Silver scoured the halls of manor, searching for the oddly elusive Jims. He mumbled under his breath as he opened yet _another_ door he didn’t know previously existed to find nothing. “I swear, for two guys who never stop screaming and running around when you _don’t_ want them around, they sure are damn hard to find when you _do!_ God, Wilford is going to _kill_ me! Why do _I_ have to find them?”

“Maybe if you stopped mutterin’ to yourself and actually checked their room you’d find them!” Silver jumped a mile when Ed spoke up, leaning against the wall and staring at him with one eyebrow raised and arms crossed.

“ _God_ – Ed! Don’t _scare_ me like that, you don’t even know what I’m doing! And for the record, I _did_ check their room, and they weren’t there!”

Ed rolled his eyes. “Wilford isn’t exactly a quiet man, everyone heard him losin’ whatever he has left of his mind over needin’ a short-notice, emergency film crew. And check again! _Maybe_ you missed somethin’!”

Silver huffed, doubting Ed’s words but he followed the cowboy anyway towards the twins’ room. He pushed open the door and peeked inside – two twin beds in the middle, separated only by a nightstand what appeared to be an old pile of blankets and clothes, expensive equipment on the floor, the back wall of _years_ of video archives, and, most importantly, _no twins_. Silver turned back to Ed, sticking one arm into the room in gesture, clearly annoyed. “See? No twins! Very helpful, Ed!”

Ed smacked him on the back of the head. “Shut up!” His voice was a harsh whisper. “You’ll wake them up!”

“ _Ow!_ Wake who –” Ed smacked him again, pointing sharply into the room. Silver sighed, rolling his eyes but complying. “I still don’t –” The bundle between the beds Silver previously thought was a pile of laundry shifted and snored, and a hand flopped out between the folds. Silver promptly slapped both hands over his mouth, peering at the pile. “Are they…?”

Ed nodded, walking over the pile and pulling free a blanket. Both newly revealed Jims – completely tangled in each other and the remaining blankets – whined, snuggling deeper into their cocoon. Ed placed his hands on his hips, staring down at them fondly. “Yep. Fast asleep. Found the rascals in my own bed, for whatever fuckin’ reason, so I wrapped them up and dumped them back here. Didn’t think you’d come chargin’ through like an elephant.” He laid the blanket back over them, then walked back over to Silver, placing a hand on his shoulder and drawing him away.

Silver glanced back over his shoulder, wringing his cape nervously. “I _really_ don’t want to wake them, but Wilford may actually kill me otherwise…”

“Shh. I’ll deal with Wilford. Let them sleep.” Ed sighed looking back over at the pile himself. “You know how hard they’ve been workin’ recently. Our resident candy-colored psychopath has been losin’ an _excessive_ amount of staff lately and, as always, calls upon them as replacements. I don’t think they’ve actually slept through the whole night since the day we kicked that son of a bitch Derek out of this house.”

Silver flinched. “Someone should really talk to Dark about him…” Hesitantly, he pulled away from Ed, moving toward the twins. He lifted the blanket, a soft smile instantly spreading across his face at the sight of CJ’s face (distinguishable by the microphone RJ still gripped tightly) buried in his brother’s chest, his peaceful expression mostly hidden by his curls, his legs curled up tight and RJ’s arms wrapped around him, his own face buried in CJ’s hair and snoring lightly. The Jims were two of the oldest egos in the manor, but they always seemed so… _young_. Especially in moments like this.

Closing his eyes, Silver washed his aura over them, covering them in a soothing feeling. When he opened his eyes again, CJ wasn’t curled as tight, and RJ had stopped snoring, the microphone fallen from his grasp, both of them breathing deeply. Silver draped the blanket back over them, satisfied that they wouldn’t be disturbed, and not two seconds later a _fucking gunshot_ echoed through the manor, making him flinch horribly with certain images flashing through his mind, and quickly followed by Wilford’s unintelligible shouting.

Ed swore violently under his breath, finally exclaiming “ _Shit!_ ” loudly. He glanced at Silver, sighing heavily. “Like I said, I’ll deal with Wilford. You…go hide. He doesn’t sound happy.”

Silver nodded hurriedly, eyes wide, and they both bolted, Silver using his aura to close the door gently in their wake.


	2. Bim and King

Eric padded nervously into the living area, where the vast majority of the other egos were lounging about. He fidgeted nervously with his hands, with his glasses, sweating slightly. “U-um…d-do any of you kn-know where Bim is? I-I-I need to ask him something…”

Dark raised an eyebrow from where he sat, folded neatly into the far side of the couch with Wilford pressed comfortably against him. “Did you check his room?”

When Eric nodded, Dr. Iplier snorted, pausing in his work of combing his fingers through the Host’s hair, who’s head was lying face-down in his lap, Peggy purring on his back with one arm dangling over the edge of the loveseat. “Did you check _King’s_ room?”

Eric flushed bright red and Bing began giggling to himself, covering his mouth with his hand and falling against Google. Google shot his partner a glare, then turned to face the younger ego, one eyebrow raised. “Eric, if you _do_ decide to take Dr. Iplier up on his advice…” He smirked, cocking his head to the side and eyes flashing. “Then I suggest you _knock_ first.”

Eric’s blush darkened and Bing burst into full laughter, doubling over. Ed promptly fell out of his recliner and Reynolds ended up spitting out his coffee in surprise, much to Dark’s displeasure as it got on the carpet if his scowl was anything to go by. Eric ducked his head, still fidgeting endlessly with his hands. “Um, okay, I-I’ll uh…go check…there…” He practically bolted, if only to get away from the other laughing egos, his face burning.

Tentatively, he approached the dark red, mildly ornately carved door. Blush immediately returning as he remembered Google’s ‘advice’, he raised a fist, gently rapping his knuckles on the door. “Uh, Bim? A-are you in here? I just need to ask you about the show you wanted my help on.” When he got no response, he shifted, anxiety skyrocketing. “Um, I-I’m gonna come in, okay? So just…” He slowly pushed the door open, sticking his head inside. Almost instantly the tension left his body at what he saw.

King was completely wrapped up in his blankets, facing the wall and practically pressing himself to it, his head beneath the covers and pretty much only his hair visible above. Bim was curled up next to him, apparently having joined him later, judging by the fact that he was lying on top of the covers, but still managing to wrap himself around King, face buried in the older ego’s hair. A trail of peanut butter and silver glitter across the pillows marked their journey toward the wall, a detail that made Eric laugh quietly to himself. Both of their glasses were discarded on the nightstand, and one of them was snoring softly.

Fumbling for his phone, Eric snapped a picture, heart melting at how _adorable_ it was, before he retreated, whispering to himself. “I’ll uh…I-I’ll come back later.”

Suddenly Bim shifted, and then he was sitting up, rubbing at his eyes, and Eric flinched, accidently bumping the door in his movement and pushing it open more. Bim jumped, and Eric froze, caught like a deer in the headlights as Bim squinted at him. “…Eric? Wha-what are you doing here?” He yawned, covering his eyes with his hands.

Eric opened and closed his mouth for a second, unsure of what to say. “I-I uh…I came looking for you…I had a question but I didn’t mean to intrude um…i-it can wait.”

Bim groaned, flopping back onto the bed and shifting closer to the still-sleeping King, one forearm covering his eyes. “No no, you’re good. Shoot.”

Eric blinked. “Well um…I-I was wondering what exactly you wanted me to _do_ at your show, be-because you just said you wanted me there and I –”

He was cut off by a light snore, and he started back, tilting his head. He took a few steps deeper into the room, glancing closer at Bim. The game show host had passed out again, mouth open slightly and suit incredibly rumpled, tie practically undone. Eric muffled a snort, slapping a hand over his mouth and taking another picture of Bim’s face and looking at it with a sort of smug satisfaction before freezing up again as Bim rolled over in his sleep, gravitating back toward King, ending up in the exact same position he found them in. He grinned to himself, backing up slowly before spinning on his heel and running out of the room, taking the care to close the door gently behind him before sprinting back toward the living area, phone in hand.

Oh he just _had_ to show those pictures to Wilford.


	3. The Host

Dr. Iplier let out a sigh as he entered the manor, pulling off his head mirror and shoving it into his doctor’s coat pocket, running his other hand down his face. His day at the hospital had been…less than ideal. A woman died as he was guiding her through child birth, another patient with some particularly violent flu had _completely_ ignored _everything_ he had to say and had strut around the _entire_ hospital coughing on everything and probably getting the whole building sick, and to top it all off, Henrik had lost a patient himself in surgery and had – admittedly reasonably – completely broken down on his shoulder during their break, unintentionally adding to the stress of his day.

Right now, all he wanted was a strong cup of coffee and to raid Ed’s donut stash.

He sighed again, and halfway through it turned into a groan, covering his face with his hands. He dropped them, trudging toward the kitchen with exhaustion written in every line of his face. However, he smiled when he spotted the tell-tale black hair with a blond streak peaking over the back of the nearest reclining chair. Mildly surprised by the lack of narrations, he walked over, pressing a kiss to the top of the Host’s head, smiling against his hair. “Good evening, my beloved.”

His brow furrowed when he still received no response, and he leaned back, frowning. Walking around to the other side, his features immediately softened, smiling gently. The Host was fast asleep, completely dead to the world with his mouth open slightly, breathing deeply. His coat was draped down his front like a makeshift blanket, his head lolled onto his shoulder. Probably the most adorable aspect of the whole scenario – minus, of course, the fact that Host was asleep and curled up in his coat – was Peggy, equally fast asleep on the Host’s shoulder his head wasn’t rest on, curled right against his neck. The two always got a long surprisingly well, and ever since the whole ‘Bim turning them into animals’ incident they were borderline inseparable, much to Bing’s obvious jealousy.

Dr. Iplier let out a soft laugh, finding the scene _incredibly_ adorable. He pressed a kiss to the Host’s forehead, running his fingers through his hair, and the Host’s breath hitched. He gave a quiet sigh, and began to raise his head but stopped once he noticed the tiny, three-legged kitten on his shoulder, instead opting to smile up at Dr. Iplier. “Doctor. Welcome home.”

Dr. Iplier laughed. “Been here a good five minutes, Host. You’re adorable, you know that?”

The Host flushed, shifting more upright. Peggy suddenly blinked awake, raising her head and yawning, stretching to her fullest on the Host’s shoulder, her one front paw pressing lightly against the hollow of his throat. The Host chuckled, one hand emerging from beneath his coat to scoop her up, Peggy making a small, purr-like noise in protest at the loss if the warmth of his throat. He held her up to his face, her front paw resting on his nose. “Hello, little one. Did Peggy enjoy using the Host as a bed?”

Dr. Iplier snorted. “Come on. Let’s get you into an actual bed, Mr. Sleepy Head.”

The Host tilted his head, grinning up at him and holding Peggy close to his chest. “Only if Dr. Iplier promises to join the Host. He appears equally exhausted.”

Dr. Iplier visibly sagged. “ _Gladly_. I’ll be there in a minute. I actually had a mission before I spotted your adorable ass.”

The Host smirked, standing up and leaving his coat on the chair, and pulled Dr. Iplier into a short kiss. Dr. Iplier watched him head off to his room before going back to his initial plan and headed to the kitchen. Foregoing the coffee in favor of actually getting sleep, he still went to the pantry, grabbing two glazed donuts from Ed’s _many_ hoarded boxes and slowly followed the Host’s path, eating as he went, Ed’s wrath be damned.

He closed the door to the Host’s room as gently as possible, shoving the last of his donut in his mouth. He spun around, surveying the Host’s room – messy desk scattered with parchment and permanent ink stains (much like the Host’s hands), relatively organized wardrobe against the back wall (with at least three more trench coats hanging inside, the dork) with his bat propped up against it, his bed in the middle of the closest wall with its black, wrought iron frame and a beige comforter covered in what the Host said were Egyptian Hieroglyphs. The most important feature was the Host himself, curled beneath the covers and asleep again with Peggy sleeping on the pillow by his head.

Dr. Iplier sat down on the bed with a sigh, stripping of his coat and tossing it somewhere in the room before crawling under the covers, shifting closer to the Host. He smiled, gazing at his face with pure fondness and adoration and unable to resist pressing a kiss to his nose. “God I love you.” He pulled him closer, shifting lower slightly to avoid disturbing Peggy. “I love you so much.”

The Host suddenly moved, wrapping his arms around Dr. Iplier and chucking against his hair when he jumped. “The Host loves Dr. Iplier, too. Now _go_ to _sleep_.”

Dr. Iplier huffed out a laugh, burying his face in the Host’s chest. “Sounds like a plan.”


	4. Bing

Google slid open the door to his office, scowling slightly when he noticed Bing was nowhere in sight. His three extensions, however, all raised their heads, staring at him with equal intensity. He crossed his arms, scanning them. “Have any of you seen Bing? He’s been missing all day and I am…worried.”

All three of them tilted their heads in unison. “He was here yesterday,” Red said, righting himself. “Not a usual occurrence.”

“Yeah, he was grabbing spare parts again,” Oliver added. “Something about another ‘personal project’.”

Green scoffed. “Some project. He took practically everything we have. Do you know how _long_ it took us to gather that much material?”

Google snorted. “As long as he’s not hiding another cat I don’t care.” He hummed. “His door was locked but…I’ll see what I can do.”

He stalked out of the office, making his way toward Bing’s room and decidedly ignoring the way Red and Green rolled their eyes. He knocked on the wall next to Bing’s door, brow furrowed with concern. “Bing? Are you in there?” Swallowing down his spiking anxieties, his circuits spiraling into tight knots, he hurriedly tapped the door, eyes flashing red briefly when the door tried to slide open but was stopped by whatever lock Bing had put on it. Quickly doing some reconfigurations of his physical appearance so that his fingertips matched that of Bing’s (he’s had that on database since two days after Bing was created), he tapped the door again, letting out a quick breath of relief when it slid open easily.

He stepped into the room, not really looking around first before beginning his rant, hands fisted tight in his hair. “Bing, what have you been _doing_ in here, you’ve been locked in here since yesterday apparently, you haven’t been answering my calls or my texts, God _dammit_ , Bing I was _worried_ about you, I thought you were kid –”

He paused mid-rant, suddenly noting that Bing hadn’t said a word, something _very_ uncharacteristic of his little default. He glanced about the room, finally noticing Bing slumped over at his desk, cheek pressed to the table and arms dangling limply. Something hastily covered with a blanket lay on his desk, screws and computer chips scattered about on what _was_ visible. Google ignored his curiosity in favor of scanning the younger android, and suddenly he scoffed, placing his hands on his hips with a disbelieving smile on his face. Bing was completely _dead_ , no power in his core. In other words, he was out cold. “You son of a bitch.” Google picked up the end of his charging cable laying unceremoniously on the floor by his bed. “You worked yourself literally to death. Goddammit Bing.” He plugged the cable in, waiting with a raised eyebrow and tapping his foot, hands still on his hips.

A few seconds later, Bing’s neck sparked, and his core was humming to life. He jumped, knees banging against the underside of desk. “ _Mother****er!_ ” He pushed back his chair, bumping into his bed, and _that’s_ when he noticed Google standing there. He offered him a smile, his flickering eyes visible without his shades as power rushed back into his systems. “Oh…h-hey Google…what’s up?” Suddenly he frowned, sitting up straighter. “Wait, how did you get through the door?! Where’s the –” His eyes met his desk and he sighed in relief, sliding back over to run a hand over the blanket. “Oh thank God. Guess I had enough common sense in my last moments to cover this.”

Google hummed. “Let me guess…another ‘secret’ project I am not allowed to see?”

Bing gave him another smile, this one brighter. “You would be correct!” He spun in his chair as he said the last word, leaning back in said chair and getting completely tangled in his charging cord.

Google stopped his spinning with a foot, expression going serious. “Bing, you let yourself run dry. You can’t _do_ that, you need to take better care of yourself.” He gestured to the desk. “Whatever _this_ is…it can wait. Nothing comes before _you_ , Bing, a concept you have yet to grasp.”

Bing slumped over, clearly put out, and he brushed Google’s foot aside in order to spin back around and untangle himself. “Yes, yeah, I know, but I um…I-I just want to make sure this is perfect. It’s um…it’s for you, actually.”

Google started back in surprise, eyes going wide. “ _Me?_ ”

Bing scratched the back of his head nervously, orange beginning to tint his cheeks. “Yeah, you know…Valentine’s Day is in what, four, five days? So uh…yeah.”

Google chuckled and leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to Bing’s lips. “While that is very sweet, Bing, it still does not come before your wellbeing.” Suddenly Bing’s core stuttered, and the android himself yawned as Google pulled away. Google tilted his head, curling a finger under Bing’s chin. “Get some _sleep_ , Bing. Recharge. Just because we’re androids does not mean we don’t need our rest. A fact you seem to undermine and deny every time I turn my head.”

Bing grinned up at him, eyes fluttering shut. “Only if you decide to join me. Come on, we haven’t shared a bed since the Host had his little issue with a stalker. I’m deprived.” He held up his arms straight out in front of him, pouting at Google with his eyes still closed.

Google huffed, rolling his eyes, but obliged, scooping Bing up in his arms. “You are completely spoiled.”

Bing sighed as he was set down on the bed, immediately burrowing under the covers. “Only because you love me.”

“Yes, I do, and right now it is an inconvenience.”

Bing gasped, finally opening his eyes and shifting to face Google as he climbed in with him. “Google! I’m _wounded!_ ”

Google snorted, but didn’t reply, instead wrapping his arms around Bing and pulling him closer, resting his chin atop his head. Bing snuggled against him, the dimming of the sound of his core and the dulling of his logo signaling that he had finally powered down. After checking to make sure his power cable was still plugged in, Google powered down as well, reveling in the feeling of being _this close_ to the other.


	5. Wilford Warfstache

It was late at night, nearing eleven o’clock, and Dark was still slaving away at his desk, though admittedly he was beginning to run on fumes. And that was when he got the call, ‘Candyman’ blaring loudly in the dead quiet. He answered without looking, recognizing the caller by the ringtone. “Goddammit Wil, you’ve been shooting all day. What idiot scheduled you an interview _this_ late at night?!”

_"U-uh, Mr. Darkiplier sir?”_

Dark sat straight, aura whipping around him. “Who are you and why do you have Wil’s phone?”

_"Um, I-I-I’m one of his producers and…c-could you possibly come and pick Mr. Warfstache up from the studio? He is…incapacitated at the moment.”_

Dark sighed, elbow propped up on his desk and his head falling into the support of his hand, covering his eyes. “What did he do this time?”

_"W-well um, he s-stabbed his latest um, interviewee,_ several _times before he just…passed out, right here on the stage and is sort of…snuggling the body.”_

Dark raised an eyebrow, blinking once. “Well that’s a new one. I’ll be right there.” He hung up, right in the middle of the producer’s relieved ‘thank you’. He stood, adjusting his tie, before stepping into the Void, reemerging in the middle of Wil’s studio.

He rolled his eyes at the pandemonium, clasping his hands behind his back and stalking toward the stage, completely ignoring anyone who tried to talk to him. He snorted at the sight. The producer wasn’t wrong in his description; Wil was lying on the floor of the stage, spooning the still sluggishly bleeding body of someone Dark couldn’t care less about, eyes closed and blood painting his clothes and mustache red. “God-fucking-dammit, Wil, don’t you have even a _little_ respect for yourself?”

He lifted Wil into his arms, making a noise of disgust and crinkling his nose when his sweetheart curled into him. He could _feel_ the blood drenching Wil’s clothes beginning to seep into his suit. “You’re buying me a new suit, asshole.” He turned to face the crowd, aura snapping angrily for effect. “Alright which one of you has his phone?” The device was offered to him by some guy with blond hair, but Dark just snapped his fingers and it disappeared.

He didn’t say another word, just tore open the Void again and reappeared in their bathroom, quickly setting Wil down unceremoniously in the bathtub. He quickly stripped the both of them of their bloody clothes, sighing with annoyance when he spotted the red stains on both his skin and Wil’s. “You are a human disaster.” Still, he began running a hot bath, filling it up till everything but Wil’s head was submerged in the water, and he let him soak, jumping into the shower himself just long enough to scrub the stains off his own body.

Moving back to the tub, he completely scrubbed Wil clean – his hair, his mustache, his skin. All the while he remained passed out, snoring lightly with his mouth hanging open. Dark toweled him off, dressing him in his pajamas of a while t-shirt and pink fluffy pajama pants, and lifted him back up, setting him down gently in the bed. He dumped the soiled clothes in the bathtub to be dealt with later and got dressed himself. He was just toweling his hair when Wil woke up, blinking and groaning groggily. “Wha timezzz it?”

Dark snorted. “So Sleeping Beauty finally decides to wake. Couldn’t have done that when I was giving you a bath, could you.”

Wil rubbed at his eyes, starfishing on the bed. “Sssorry.” He yawned, then squinted his eyes. “Wasn’t I at th’sstudio?”

“Yes, you were; you committed murder and passed out on set, cuddling with the body. You’re a fucking mess. Now shove over. Dealing with your ass has made me even more exhausted than I already was.”

Wil gave a delirious laugh, grinning broadly at him, but complied, slipping under the covers as Dark slid in next to him, the demon using his aura to turn out the lights. Dark intentionally positioned himself with his back to Wil, fully intent on being grumpy and petty. Wil propped himself up on his forearm, slinging his other arm loosely over Dark’s waist. “Aww, c’mon, Darkipoo! I said m’sorry!” He pressed a sleepy kiss to the back of Dark’s neck. “I love you!”

With a long-suffering sigh, Dark turned over, and Wil’s delightfully child-like, giddy expression made it difficult to keep up his grumpy façade. He pulled Wil into a brief kiss, then proceeded to turn onto his stomach, pressing his face into the pillows. “I love you too. Now shut up and go back to sleep. Asshole.”

And with an adorable giggle – along with a delighted gasp and the accompanying chatter of a newly arrived Bubblegum – Wil did exactly that, arm still wrapped around Dark’s waist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes! Aw it's cute. Anyway, yes, as the Bing and Google chapter implied, Wednesday's story will be pushed to Thursday for Valentine's Day! And lemme tell ya, I have something VERY special planned for that story, I cried writing it, oh my God. See ya then!


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